


Bloodlines

by PreAlexa



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Buffy Wishverse, Buffy the Vampire Slayer References, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Character Death, Community: buffyverse1000, Dark Willow Rosenberg (BtVS), F/F, LGBTQ Themes, POV Buffy Summers, Temporary Character Death, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-01 06:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20253910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreAlexa/pseuds/PreAlexa
Summary: An AU fiction with Willow still giving up the sobriety of magics to lose herself, to bring Tara to life, but she is determined to reverse time from when Tara was shot and killed.





	1. Chapter 1

The Bloodline

The wind whipped inside, rustling the loose papers in the room, and extinguishing the candles as it made its presence known. The breathy chill it left on her exposed skin brought goose bumps, but warm hands quickly smoothed them over.

“Baby, do you want me to shut the window?”

“If it doesn’t bother you, I’d like to keep it open a while. I love the fresh, autumn air…well, when it’s more autumny and less windy, chilly and blowing everything around the room.” As soon as she spoke the words, the two candles blew out with the Santa Anna gales.

Tara turned to her side and faced Willow. “Sure, sweetie, whatever you want. We have blankets and we have each other.”

“Hmmmm…each other. Can’t complain with the snuggles!” Willow turned on her bright smile and wrapped her legs around her lover's, gently entwining them into a tight embrace. She brushed a stray lock of hair behind Tara’s ear and looked deeply into the azure pools with desire and love.

At that moment, another bellowing burst of wind came through the window, sending Willow into an upright position, the sheets clutched to her chest. “OK, over it now! Can’t stand it anymore!” She looked wistfully at Tara with imploring eyes, then back to the window. “Do I have to get up and do it…or can you…??”

“Endus Canop!”

The window slammed shut bringing the room to an eerie stillness. “Thanks, baby.” she said sheepishly. Her eyes showing relief she didn’t have to ask to do it herself. Magic had a way of getting out of hand with her…maybe not at that moment but recurrent moments always lead up to something bigger. She would not lose Tara again and vowed to not use magic the same way. Not for power. Not for abuse.

“My pleasure, even though I don’t normally practice by those measures” and with a pause and a slow, crooked smile Tara added, “but I’m with you, and getting out of bed is not on my priority list.” She pulled Willow down back into the sheets and snuggled back up to the soft, silken body, which eagerly embraced her in return.

With an outstretched hand, and under the muffled command of a very turned-on blonde witch, “Ignitus” was uttered and the candle flames were again dancing and licking within their holders.

\----------------------------------------------------

Their morning started like most mornings. Sleepy yawns and snuggles before the alarm clock went off. Gentle back rubs and caresses, to which lead to deepening snuggles, to which then usually lead to deeper kissing. Despite morning breath and all, neither could get enough of each other. Tara looked radiant in the morning. Willow, on the other hand, always felt she looked tired and washed out. Abusing the magicks took its toll on her body. But Tara really only saw the best side of Willow. She was always forgiving and generous of her heart, her body, and her affections. If Tara thought Willow was beautiful, it was because Tara made Willow beautiful.

“Mmmmm, morning, baby” purred the honey-haired vixen. “You ready to get up? I mean, I’m not but I know you’ve got classes in a while and while I may be a sex kitten, I’m afraid it’s not enough to keep you here.”

“Baby, you know if it weren’t for the exam, I would so be here with you.” Willow gave her usual elfin grin before leaning in towards another less than chaste kiss. “But Professor Demon-Doofus, A.K.A “I suck 101 – How to fall into a coma in under 10 seconds”, and although that might be a given sittin’ here on Hellmouth, you know, him being a less than stellar professor and all…and, you know, what’s with the choosing to give our finals in oral form anyway cuz I tend to get a bit sweaty when I hafta get up in front of people I don’t know…"

"Willow."

"Well, I must be fully prepared because crash and burning doth not come to the faint of heart.”

“Willow, breathe….and you’ll do fine. You always were good…um…orally.”

“Tara!”

After ensuing giggles and pillow play-fighting, they finally dragged themselves up to ready for their day.

“Mmmmm - clothes! Better not get used to them!"

\----------------------------------------------

The bullet ripped through the window and red splattered the walls, the floor, and lastly, her shirt. Blood everywhere…the precious life force of Tara seeping into the carpeting as she collapsed upon it.

“TARA! Baby! Wake up! Baby…baby! Please!! Wake up! No! No! NO!!!!”

Dark, encircling clouds of electric blue filled the room, a gaseous and ominous mixture of magic and death permeated with each breath Willow took.

“I call upon thee Osiris! Do of my will!”

Willow knew there was nothing to be done. She knew summoning the God was fruitless and dangerous. Magic could only work upon those who were killed by magical forces. This was a natural death…not that Tara’s death was by any means natural. What is natural about a bullet being ripped through the heart? The bullet did more damage to Willow’s heart.

In a haste of rage, torment and bewilderment, Willow performed a powerful transportation spell. It was beyond powerful…it was beyond anything done before. She released her soul, her all, to provide the energy needed for this task. She didn’t care if it killed her…for what had she to lose anymore? She just wanted out of here, beyond memories and time. To find Tara before she left for the any of the Heavenly dimensions, to say goodbye, and to tell her to save a place, or ask for one because for all Willow cared, she was ready to die along side her.

\----------------------------------------------

The sun shone brightly overhead…the smell of dew and warm grass filled her senses as she lay on her back, gazing upward at the clouds.

She slowly sat up, slightly dazed and dizzy, hands shielding her eyes from the glaring sun.

The birds sang loudly in the surrounding trees but the air was strangely silent. Where was she? She didn’t remember being here before…where was before? And where is here? The bed, kissing, making love, better not get used to clothing, a shattering.

“Your shirt.” she softly whispered. Why had she said that?

Tara stood up slowly, taking in the scenery, completely unfamiliar in her mind.

Rationality set in. She scanned quickly looking for Willow, or for anything familiar. Fear and panic quickly arose in her chest.

\------------------------------------------

Willow, her heart careening like a pebble tumbling downstream, had replayed Tara’s death over and over, unable to quell the nightmare. The jarring effects of astral-traveling violently shook her along each winding and bending path, like a maze of torrential rivers, cresting and crashing into one another where they met. This time it was painful…yet she welcomed it. Anything was better than feeling the searing pain in her heart where Tara fell…where Tara died in her arms. Through blinding light to desolate darkness, from slow agonizing burns to spinning and spiraling out of control, each turn enfolded her, ensnaring her to its ethereal chain, all these meaningless rivers of endless and tangled dimensions. She didn’t care. She didn’t want out.

Until….

\-------------------------------------------------------

Her breath caught in her throat as she spotted an article of clothing lying in tatters a few feet away. A chill ran through her warm flesh.

“Oh God…”

It was the torn remains of a blouse. A white blouse with spatters of blood. Tara reached to pick it up. As she touched it, the memories washed over her like a wave.

The white-hot trail of an entry wound. Making love with Willow. Making up with Willow. Her shirt sprayed with blood. Darkness enveloping…

“Your shirt.” Again, she whispered the words, barely able to believe the truth.

She had died. She felt it inside her as much as she felt the warmth of the sun on her skin. But was this heaven? She didn’t feel the way she thought one might feel when in a place of peace. She felt fear, and nausea, and didn’t recognize where she was, but recognized the bloodied shirt she held in her hands was Willow’s…and the blood on it was her own. She needed answers. There was no logic to this aside from the persistent and chilling fact she might be dead. Tara slumped to the ground, hot tears stinging behind her eyes.

As she looked down on herself, she noticed her own clothing was as torn and shredded as the fabric in her hands. She saw the hole in her shirt. She felt for a wound. There was none. She’d rather be dead in Willow’s arms than be here, wherever here was and alone. The manner in which she arrived was violent judging from the effects of her clothing and the deepening red marks on her skin. There was nothing left to do but find some answers, some truth. She’d do a spell…but oh god...where was Willow? She had to clear her mind. Her mind couldn’t conjure anything in this ‘world’ or ‘dimension of time’ or wherever she was. She was blank and at the mercy of this place with just the sounds of birds overhead and an occasional wisp of breeze to stir in her hair.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Within the blackness she caught a glimpse… a quick one but it was enough. Through the weaving astral pathways she saw her standing alone, in brilliant light…and what…what was she holding in her hand? Images spun in her mind. It was time. Time to find her lover again. She focused her thoughts, her will towards the portal. It pulled…it hurt, a vicious tugging at her skin. She felt her body might implode with the force of time warping around her. The light burned her eyes and it was moving closer and closer. Willow instinctively flung her hands up over her face.

\-------------------------------------------------

“Aradia, here my words.

I ask thee to guide my way

Show me answers as they may

I heed the strength of sight unseen

Wash my thoughts of words unclean.”

A warm wind swept through the grass. The sounds around her grew silent.

The air shimmered, the wind whipped at her hair, and everything became a blur of trees, sky and ground. She opened her eyes, waves of nausea gripping her stomach. A thin veil had shrouded her vision, forming a mist, and she knew something heard her plea. She must be somewhere tangible. This wasn’t a dream to which she’d gladly wake up from. There was a shape taking form through the mist. The shape solidified before her, a most welcoming sight, and then…there they were… the familiar emerald green eyes looking back…yes, was it? It was her Willow!

She gasped, shock and relief flooding her senses and her eyes, unable to call out or speak.

“Tara!” Willow was bound in frigid mist, unable to fully emerge from the portal. “Oh, God, Tara!” She tried to call out, but her voice was nothing more than a chilled block of ice. “Please hurry!” Impatience held her captive as she eventually managed to steady one foot on solid ground, still semi-trapped by the energy of the portal. The effects were temporarily binding. She watched as Tara cautiously ventured towards her instead. Those eyes. Yes, those were the same eyes!

“Willow?” Tara whispered, still disbelieving her own eyes.

“Tara! Oh God. I found you! I was… I was out of my mind…and then I saw you here…” Willow’s body was so cold. The effects of the traveling had taken all her energy, both physical and mental. She stepped ahead like an automated robot, awkward, and the pain of pins and needles were overwhelming her. Afraid she was delusional from the magicks, she hoarsely whispered, “Is it…is it…you, Baby? Is this… are you?” She tentatively reached forward to touch the shape of the woman standing in front of her. The form was solid, breathing and real. With shaking fingers she grasped Tara’s hand, relieved the hand was warm and soft. Tara leaned in to embrace in a deep hug, feeling their strong connection surge between them, and just as relieved Willow wasn’t an illusion. The mists of the portal began to envelop them both. Tara had the strength to pull them both out, unsure if the portal would fling them elsewhere and separate them again.

“Tara…” Willow took a deep, shuddering breath, her eyes black from the intense magics she used. One hand clutched at Tara’s for dear life and the other flailed nervously. “Tara, I know this is going to sound crazy, as in what else is new, I know, but you were… shot…and I don’t know who did this…but you died in…in our room, in front of me, a..a and I tried to bring you back but…”

“Willow, sit. Warm yourself in the sun and let the magics dispel from you. Do the trick I taught you. You’re too high to be rational.

After a minute or five, Tara continued as Willow closed her eyes and breathed, recanting the ways to diffuse high doses of magic from her compromised system. “I know, I mean, I felt it. I remembered when I…when I picked this up.” She held up the remains of the bloodied fabric. “This is yours. That’s my blood. I remember…vaguely. But…but we…here you are…and I called…and the portal…and that’s when you came.” Tara looked around nervously. “A..and exactly where is here, Willow?”

Willow opened her eyes, back to their green color again and focused only on the shirt in Tara’s hand. She sobbed uncontrollably.

Tara rushed to her side and held her strongly. Long enough for Willow to regain composure again.

“Well, I don’t know just yet”, she replied softly, still trying to shake off the effects of the spell and the fresh memories of her beloved dying in what seemed like moments ago. It was all too much to comprehend. “I…well, I went nuts with the you dying factor and I…I…cast a teleportation spell to...to...to lose myself so I wouldn’t go two hairs shy of crazy because I felt it inside me, Tara…deep inside…a..a..and it frightened me what I might do…so I...I wished myself…” she grasped for the right words. “I wanted to disappear. I couldn’t save you...and I just wanted you back. That’s all I could think of…was to somehow…”

Her sentence trailed off intelligibly. The tears began a downward descent. Tara stepped in closer, gently wiping them away with the pads of her thumbs.

“Sweetie, it’s me, and I’m really here with you…and I’m happy to be here than without, but we’ve got to find some answers. W..w. .we’ve got to find out where we are and how to get back.”

“Tara, going back means…it means that home is where you’re not anymore. You were killed a..and I can’t go back to that.”

They looked at each other knowing words didn’t need to be spoken. Much had happened so quickly and the sight of the other was enough to carry them forward, to take the next step in figuring out what to do. Tara nodded in understanding. She didn’t want to be without Willow, either. She knew the ‘right’ thing to do was to go back and have her life play out as it had, but if it meant she ended up here in whatever ‘afterlife’ this place was, she’d compromise on the issue. They always had called out to each other, and whatever forms of magic they used, in their moments of need, they had found one another. They would somehow always find each other.

\------------------------------------------------


	2. Where do We Go From Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Willow explains the how and why of finding Tara, on a bender of magic surely to displease her, Tara is more concerned about where they are....

The tall grasses bent and swayed in the wind and the hot air pressed down on them. It was a far cry from the autumn evening they last shared in their bedroom in what seemed less than 20 minutes ago. An advantage to having partially temporal-disturbed and shredded clothing was that it kept them ventilated in this summer heat.

“Will, do you remember exactly how you got into the portal? If so, we can create another temporal time rift to create a portal dimension back…oh…um…b..b..but we have to get around that little dying problem of mine.”

Willow nodded slowly then turned her gaze towards the horizon. “And I, for one, am certainly not gonna lose you again.” She could feel the sting behind her eyes as that horrific scene roared through her senses again. “But to answer your question, I don’t remember exactly what I did to get in it. You weren’t…you know, ‘there’ and I…invoked all the magicks I could call upon. There was some powerful mojo at hand because we found each other. I thought you were truly gone. I didn’t care what I invoked. You’re here with me now, and I fell off the wagon hard, Tara.” She smiled weakly at her beloved but continued. “Getting back to a similar time line will be much more complicated. We’ll have to find ingredients for our spells and...and… the finding of ingredients. That might be a problem, too. Then even if we manage all that the biggest problem will be me. My addiction. Please help me though it, Tara. Please.”

Tara squeezed her hand. I know there are a lot of issues we haven’t covered yet when I stood in your room and begged for you to be kissing me know. We’ll get through this together. I think, although this goes usually against the grain of what I try to preach, you actually rescued me from a dimension not meant for my soul. First, let’s just figure out what we can...."

Willow squeezed her hand, in return and nodded. "First we need to figure out where we are...and it appears we are walking through a field of very tall grass, in desperate need of a good mowing, with far too many insects…insanely large ones at that, and I’m not particularly liking the way that one is looking at me!” She clumsily swatted at something buzzing around her head, trying to lighten the mood. 

Tara poked at Willow’s ribs. “And as you continue to marvel me with your details of observation, honey, check out over there.” Tara raised her finger in the direction of what looked to be a small shack.

Willow spotted it too.

“Should we…? I dunno…look at us. What if somebody is in there? We don’t even know what time frame where in. Tara, we need to find someplace to think, to sort this through carefully, you know, and try and remember how we each got here, whether this was my doing or both of ours. Then we can piece together what we can do to get back… and safely.” She rubbed at her neck and sighed heavily. “I feel like somebody stuck my throat in a sand box.”

“Agreed, but I think this house is a good start. We can sneak up on it, you know, be two sneaky cats!” Tara formed a smirk and glanced sideways at her lover. “I see a well...could be liquid refreshments?”

“Of course, Watson…” Willow smiled, knowing the blonde was probably right. Taking no action wasn't going to solve anything. She took her lover by the hand, interlocking their fingers in a perfect fit, and togther they began a sneaky decent towards the place in question.

\----------------------------------------------------

The cottage appeared abandoned much to their relief. The door was partly ajar. Willow looked into one of the windows and noted a rocking chair, an hearth with a fireplace, a large wooden table and shelves with various jars and objects scattered about. Between the streams of sunlight, filtering in through the window, she could see the layers of dust and dirt collecting. Obviously no one had inhabited it for a while.

“This looks like it may have some things we need. I can’t tell what all is inside but I think it’s safe to say nobody lives here anymore. Well, no person. I can’t say much for the other creatures.” A field mouse and a cricket scurried from the cracked door. 

“I..I..I think I see some stuff in there that might help us, Will.”

Tara pushed the door open and stepped inside, peering around cautiously. The eerie sound of the creaking door was the only thing to be heard, other than the thumping of her heart, and Tara briefly thought of the typical horror movie scenarios. The mason jars were full of unusual things. Some had insects, others had rodents, all covered in vile fluid, but most had unusual powdered herbs, residues, and wild flowers which were used for medicinal and spell casting purposes. She went to the shelves and lifted one of the jars, bringing it slowly to her nose. “Ah…this I recognize. It’s sorbis root!” She scanned the contents of the other jars and pulled several down. Willow walked around to the wooden table, eyeing some quills and piece of parchment with scribbling on it. 

“1609, February 22”.

She looked up with concern in her eyes. “Um…you might wanna have a look at this…”

“Willow, what is it?” Tara voiced her own mutual concern and quickly walked up behind the red head, placing her hand around her waist.

Looking at the parchment, she bent her head over Willow’s shoulder to read.

It was difficult to make out some of the writing. The lettering style was Old English and awfully…curvy. Not at all a simple thing to decipher.

\------------------------------------------------

“1609, February 22 ~

My daughter was taken three days ago. What possesses my neighbors to seek council when a child takes fever yet forsakes my explanations, leaving me condemned by the Church when death comes, and with which will come naturally to us all? I fear my arrival was a grievous mistake. I am returning to England. I pray the sanctuary of home prevents the wrath of damnation for being a practitioner of the Magicks.

Sir Jonathon McGregor”

\------------------------------------------------

They looked at each other…a slow comprehension setting in. 

“1609?”

“We’re practically in the dark ages, Tara!”

\-----------------------------------------------------


	3. Ties That Bind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still back in the ages where practicing Witchcraft, or collecting herbs, was considered a first class ticket to be burned alive, Willow and Tara must find a way back home - just not the same timeline Tara was shot.

They looked at each other…a slow comprehension setting in. 

“1609?”

“We’re stuck in the dark ages, Tara!”

“Um, technically” she said with a nervous chuckle, “ it’s still the modern era…” Tara looked apprehensively towards the assortment of mason jars. “I w..w..wonder what happened to these people? There are some odd herbs and stuff here that only experienced witches and herbalists would know of.” In one of the jars she found red human hair. A lump grew in her throat. “Come to think of it, wasn’t this the time when people were afraid of all things, you know, witchy? Like being gay in our time, lots of people feared what they didn't understand.” She quickly put the mason jar of hair back behind some other objects. She didn’t want Willow seeing it. 

She began to rummage through an unlocked wooden chest of clothing which cohabitated residence with other various creepy crawlies. Tara shook out a few dresses she assumed probably belonged to the daughter. Holding up a light blue frock against her frame, she thought it might fit. Barely. “I guess people didn’t have the luxury of Twinkies in this century.” She studied the dress again

Willow chimed in, “Or mochas. How awful!” She watched as her blonde sweetheart flicked a bug off the sleeve. “Baby, I think you hit on something here.”

“Yeah…bug… it had to go.” Tara fumbled with the laces on the dress.

Willow came up behind her, reaching a hand on her lover’s back. “No, baby…” she said with a smile, “about the witch thing. It sounds like this guy’s daughter might have died…or maybe she was killed.” Distracted, she reached for the frock. “Lemme help.” She took it from Tara’s hands while still talking. “So, what if she was killed by these people, namely the Church, who feared witchcraft? They didn’t understand what he was doing to help cure…or heal…and what if she had the same powers? Maybe, like you, it ran in the family.” 

“Or maybe he was trying to help her but she died anyway and ‘they’ blamed him.” Tara, noticing the darkening room, held an edge of panic to her usual calm tone, “Um, behind you…”

“Oh God…what??” Willow chunked the dress and flung her body around protectively, tensed from years of fighting vampires and other things of the demon variety with the Scooby team. This was an unguarded physical reaction but comical nonetheless. 

“Uh, the oil lamps? Would help to have light to go over the spell books, parchments and such.” Tara chuckled. She couldn’t help it. “And I’d like to study more of the herbs in those jars. Unless you think those are scary monster oil lamps or something.”

“Yeah, well, you never know!” She tried to suppress a smile. “I’m sorry… I’m a little nervous with the being out of our element kind of thing, ya know. It’s kinda overwhelming, to put it intensely mildly.” The redhead collected her composure and began searching for something to light the lamps with. “They did have matches, right?” After a few minutes of unsuccessful searching, Willow unwittingly began an incantation to light the wicks, stopping before releasing the final word to search Tara’s expression “I..I.. I know the kind of damage doing magic caused…but I couldn’t find anything to light with a..a..and is this okay? Cuz, this would be a fine time to come out of the witchy closet.” She looked dejected.

“I think, given the circumstances, it is. Let me help though. I’ll be an anchor and give you a tether to hold on to if you feel it taking control. Okay?”

Willow nodded with a nervous smile. They joined hands. “Ignitus”, a familiar word for them both, and the oil lamps were burning once again, bringing merry light amidst the prevailing darkness. “Wow. We kinda have a way with that…”

“Yeah, we do.” Tara softly smiled. “Thank you for asking me, Will.” She gently squeezed Willow’s hands to signal things were okay. She picked the dress from off the floor and put it back on the table, laying out the arms beside the bodice of the fabric. Breathing in deeply, the reality of the day was sinking in and she was feeling very tired. “So, you were saying. You think maybe this daughter was taken away from him and possibly killed for being into the magicks? From what I sense in this place, he knew much about the Craft. It might help us out in our predicament, too.” Tara glanced over at her lover, who was still looming over the parchment. 

“Kinda hard to believe anyone made it out of this century.” Willow locked gazes with the cobalt eyes, shaking her head with an expression of concern.

\----------------------------

There were books and other parchment scrolls in dusty corners of the house. Tara found one buried inside one of the drawers of an old desk. Some of these books contained written spells on healing, birthing techniques, planting and maintaining healthy crops, and there were even some wicked love potions she’d have to remember. She also noticed a small compartment built within the side panel of the desk. Inside, there were crystals of all sizes and colors. But it was the smoky quartz that caught her eye. “This was a skilled healer, Will…come check out some of these spells. Oh, and I found some canned vegetables and what I think is potted meat on one of the shelves. Let’s see if it’s any good…I’m starved.” 

The winds were beginning to pick up now that the sun had set. The air was cooler and the stagnation of the afternoon was being blown away by the winds. Cross-legged on the floor, both studying over the collection of hand-written notes, Willow drew back a bit to look into Tara’s eyes. “ In case I haven’t mentioned, like for the hundredth time, even if we don’t know where the heck we are, I love you.” She pulled Tara in for a soft kiss and stroked her cheek with the back of her fingers. “We’ll find a way to get back home.” 

Tara lopped her crooked smile and stayed lost in Willow’s green orbs for a moment before collecting her senses again. The memories of being shot and thrown around, in some time worm-hole, were gradually easing from her mind. Just looking at Willow made her feel at home, no matter where they called home. Rolling the smoky quartz in the palm of her hand, she softly voiced, “We should think about doing a spell to find out what happened to us. We have the ingredients for it and it could clue us in on how to get back. You know, I hate to bring this up right now, but that shirt of yours might help, too.” She winced the words out from her mouth.

Willow looked up, her eyes firmly affixed to their targets. She was so absorbed in the here and now she momentarily let it slip her mind the very thing that brought them here to begin with. The mistiness was again forming in the back of her eyes. “I know that, baby. Already thought of it earlier. We possibly can even use one of the girl’s dresses. If she was a witch, it should read out her history like a road map. We’ll be able to ask questions…it should help.” Willow released a yawn to help stifle the memories. “But I’m too tired to do much of anything else at the moment. Wanna try to get some sleep?”

After the kind of day this turned out to be both were utterly exhausted. Sleep would make things better for a little while.

“Willow? Don’t get out of control. I am your anchor. This you need to hold onto more than the temptation of the magics inside of you. We can work together to use the light side of your energy. Okay?”

“Tara, I will do anything you ask of me."

\-------------------------------------------------

“You go first.” 

“Nope, not even trying it.” 

“Come on, it won’t hurt you.” 

“Then you take a stab at it…pardon bad puns even in this century…”

“Do you think I’m nuts? Even Buffy probably wouldn’t attempt this.”

“You know I’m not large with the butch...don’t make me go first.”

“Didn’t you just say, “I’d do anything for you?”

“Yes, but I’m not crazy."

The ‘bed’, for lack of a better word, initially had appeared inviting but the girls were relatively nervous at what may lie hidden in the hay and God knows what else stuffed mattress. Cautiously, they each poked and prodded until they felt either it was quite dead or safe enough to lie upon. 

"Here goes nothing."

“Big and lumpy.” 

“Ouch and uncomfy. And again, I add, how did they ever make it out of this century.” 

They extinguished the lamps and wrapped in each other’s arms, taking comfort from within each of their hearts as they waited for sleep to come. Willow held Tara like never before because, in an altered inexplicable way, it was like never before. It had been, afterall, a very long and complicated day.

\------------------------------------------------

The lights twinkled and glowed from within the house. No one had lived there for weeks. Who was inside? The oil lamps were out again and the windows held no images…no shadows, no sign of life. He turned to his companion with a grimace but unwilling to venture too near just yet.

From somewhere unknown, a melodic voice whispers:

We call thee of Sight and Truth

Reveal!

\----------------------------------------------

Willow sees a young girl playing in a garden. The child magically picks the corn from the stalks and floats them into a basket. A deep voice sounds from somewhere near by. “Honey, not outside! Strangers fear what they cannot understand, if they should see you. It’s not safe for either of us.” 

Those familiar eyes…where had she seen them? It’s Tara! Tara is the one using magic…she’s the child of the man whose daughter was taken away. The child morphs to a young woman. There is fire around her.

She looks at Willow. “I know you. You are not supposed to be here.”

____________________________________________________

She awoke with a start. She had seen the child, the woman…the face and the hauntingly familiar eyes. The heat of the flames and the words still reverberated fresh in her mind. 

“I know you. You are not supposed to be here.”

Tara lay unmoving in the darkness, unwilling to disturb her slumbering lover. She’d say something about the dream to Will in the morning. She closed her eyes trying to stave off the impact of the images.

\-------------------------------------------------

When the warm sunshine spread it’s way across the interior of the room, they awoke simultaneously, still entangled in each other’s embrace. "I had the weirdest dream…”

“As weird as mine?”

The redhead continued absent-mindedly, just wanting to get out the details before they blurred from memory. “I saw you in my dream. You were a child using the Magicks…to harvest corn, no less, as I agree it’s totally an important staple in the dietary food group.” She turned on her side to face the woman who lay beside her. “Then it was you, like the way you are now, all grown…a..and, God, the fire was around you.” She waved her hands trying to recall the nuances of the dream. “You said to me, 'I know you…you’re…..”

“…not supposed to be here…” Tara finished with a blank expression.

“Exactly!” The realization beginning to sink in, “Y..you had the same dream?”

“I..I..I’m not sure w..w..what’s going on, Will…but in my dream…it was you I saw. The exact same thing, o..o..only it was you!”

Willow propped up on one elbow, looking in the direction of the table, confusion spreading across her face.

\----------------------------------------------


	4. Ties That Bind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still back in the ages where practicing Witchcraft, or collecting herbs, was considered a first class ticket to be burned alive, Willow and Tara must find a way back home - just not the same timeline Tara was shot.

They looked at each other…a slow comprehension setting in. 

“1609?”

“We’re stuck in the dark ages, Tara!”

“Um, technically” she said with a nervous chuckle, “ it’s still the modern era…” Tara looked apprehensively towards the assortment of mason jars. “I w..w..wonder what happened to these people? There are some odd herbs and stuff here that only experienced witches and herbalists would know of.” In one of the jars she found red human hair. A lump grew in her throat. “Come to think of it, wasn’t this the time when people were afraid of all things, you know, witchy? Like being gay in our time, lots of people feared what they didn't understand.” She quickly put the mason jar of hair back behind some other objects. She didn’t want Willow seeing it. 

She began to rummage through an unlocked wooden chest of clothing which cohabitated residence with other various creepy crawlies. Tara shook out a few dresses she assumed probably belonged to the daughter. Holding up a light blue frock against her frame, she thought it might fit. Barely. “I guess people didn’t have the luxury of Twinkies in this century.” She studied the dress again

Willow chimed in, “Or mochas. How awful!” She watched as her blonde sweetheart flicked a bug off the sleeve. “Baby, I think you hit on something here.”

“Yeah…bug… it had to go.” Tara fumbled with the laces on the dress.

Willow came up behind her, reaching a hand on her lover’s back. “No, baby…” she said with a smile, “about the witch thing. It sounds like this guy’s daughter might have died…or maybe she was killed.” Distracted, she reached for the frock. “Lemme help.” She took it from Tara’s hands while still talking. “So, what if she was killed by these people, namely the Church, who feared witchcraft? They didn’t understand what he was doing to help cure…or heal…and what if she had the same powers? Maybe, like you, it ran in the family.” 

“Or maybe he was trying to help her but she died anyway and ‘they’ blamed him.” Tara, noticing the darkening room, held an edge of panic to her usual calm tone, “Um, behind you…”

“Oh God…what??” Willow chunked the dress and flung her body around protectively, tensed from years of fighting vampires and other things of the demon variety with the Scooby team. This was an unguarded physical reaction but comical nonetheless. 

“Uh, the oil lamps? Would help to have light to go over the spell books, parchments and such.” Tara chuckled. She couldn’t help it. “And I’d like to study more of the herbs in those jars. Unless you think those are scary monster oil lamps or something.”

“Yeah, well, you never know!” She tried to suppress a smile. “I’m sorry… I’m a little nervous with the being out of our element kind of thing, ya know. It’s kinda overwhelming, to put it intensely mildly.” The redhead collected her composure and began searching for something to light the lamps with. “They did have matches, right?” After a few minutes of unsuccessful searching, Willow unwittingly began an incantation to light the wicks, stopping before releasing the final word to search Tara’s expression “I..I.. I know the kind of damage doing magic caused…but I couldn’t find anything to light with a..a..and is this okay? Cuz, this would be a fine time to come out of the witchy closet.” She looked dejected.

“I think, given the circumstances, it is. Let me help though. I’ll be an anchor and give you a tether to hold on to if you feel it taking control. Okay?”

Willow nodded with a nervous smile. They joined hands. “Ignitus”, a familiar word for them both, and the oil lamps were burning once again, bringing merry light amidst the prevailing darkness. “Wow. We kinda have a way with that…”

“Yeah, we do.” Tara softly smiled. “Thank you for asking me, Will.” She gently squeezed Willow’s hands to signal things were okay. She picked the dress from off the floor and put it back on the table, laying out the arms beside the bodice of the fabric. Breathing in deeply, the reality of the day was sinking in and she was feeling very tired. “So, you were saying. You think maybe this daughter was taken away from him and possibly killed for being into the magicks? From what I sense in this place, he knew much about the Craft. It might help us out in our predicament, too.” Tara glanced over at her lover, who was still looming over the parchment. 

“Kinda hard to believe anyone made it out of this century.” Willow locked gazes with the cobalt eyes, shaking her head with an expression of concern.

\----------------------------

There were books and other parchment scrolls in dusty corners of the house. Tara found one buried inside one of the drawers of an old desk. Some of these books contained written spells on healing, birthing techniques, planting and maintaining healthy crops, and there were even some wicked love potions she’d have to remember. She also noticed a small compartment built within the side panel of the desk. Inside, there were crystals of all sizes and colors. But it was the smoky quartz that caught her eye. “This was a skilled healer, Will…come check out some of these spells. Oh, and I found some canned vegetables and what I think is potted meat on one of the shelves. Let’s see if it’s any good…I’m starved.” 

The winds were beginning to pick up now that the sun had set. The air was cooler and the stagnation of the afternoon was being blown away by the winds. Cross-legged on the floor, both studying over the collection of hand-written notes, Willow drew back a bit to look into Tara’s eyes. “ In case I haven’t mentioned, like for the hundredth time, even if we don’t know where the heck we are, I love you.” She pulled Tara in for a soft kiss and stroked her cheek with the back of her fingers. “We’ll find a way to get back home.” 

Tara lopped her crooked smile and stayed lost in Willow’s green orbs for a moment before collecting her senses again. The memories of being shot and thrown around, in some time worm-hole, were gradually easing from her mind. Just looking at Willow made her feel at home, no matter where they called home. Rolling the smoky quartz in the palm of her hand, she softly voiced, “We should think about doing a spell to find out what happened to us. We have the ingredients for it and it could clue us in on how to get back. You know, I hate to bring this up right now, but that shirt of yours might help, too.” She winced the words out from her mouth.

Willow looked up, her eyes firmly affixed to their targets. She was so absorbed in the here and now she momentarily let it slip her mind the very thing that brought them here to begin with. The mistiness was again forming in the back of her eyes. “I know that, baby. Already thought of it earlier. We possibly can even use one of the girl’s dresses. If she was a witch, it should read out her history like a road map. We’ll be able to ask questions…it should help.” Willow released a yawn to help stifle the memories. “But I’m too tired to do much of anything else at the moment. Wanna try to get some sleep?”

After the kind of day this turned out to be both were utterly exhausted. Sleep would make things better for a little while.

“Willow? Don’t get out of control. I am your anchor. This you need to hold onto more than the temptation of the magics inside of you. We can work together to use the light side of your energy. Okay?”

“Tara, I will do anything you ask of me."

\-------------------------------------------------

“You go first.” 

“Nope, not even trying it.” 

“Come on, it won’t hurt you.” 

“Then you take a stab at it…pardon bad puns even in this century…”

“Do you think I’m nuts? Even Buffy probably wouldn’t attempt this.”

“You know I’m not large with the butch...don’t make me go first.”

“Didn’t you just say, “I’d do anything for you?”

“Yes, but I’m not crazy."

The ‘bed’, for lack of a better word, initially had appeared inviting but the girls were relatively nervous at what may lie hidden in the hay and God knows what else stuffed mattress. Cautiously, they each poked and prodded until they felt either it was quite dead or safe enough to lie upon. 

"Here goes nothing."

“Big and lumpy.” 

“Ouch and uncomfy. And again, I add, how did they ever make it out of this century.” 

They extinguished the lamps and wrapped in each other’s arms, taking comfort from within each of their hearts as they waited for sleep to come. Willow held Tara like never before because, in an altered inexplicable way, it was like never before. It had been, afterall, a very long and complicated day.

\------------------------------------------------

The lights twinkled and glowed from within the house. No one had lived there for weeks. Who was inside? The oil lamps were out again and the windows held no images…no shadows, no sign of life. He turned to his companion with a grimace but unwilling to venture too near just yet.

From somewhere unknown, a melodic voice whispers:

We call thee of Sight and Truth

Reveal!

\----------------------------------------------

Willow sees a young girl playing in a garden. The child magically picks the corn from the stalks and floats them into a basket. A deep voice sounds from somewhere near by. “Honey, not outside! Strangers fear what they cannot understand, if they should see you. It’s not safe for either of us.” 

Those familiar eyes…where had she seen them? It’s Tara! Tara is the one using magic…she’s the child of the man whose daughter was taken away. The child morphs to a young woman. There is fire around her.

She looks at Willow. “I know you. You are not supposed to be here.”

____________________________________________________

She awoke with a start. She had seen the child, the woman…the face and the hauntingly familiar eyes. The heat of the flames and the words still reverberated fresh in her mind. 

“I know you. You are not supposed to be here.”

Tara lay unmoving in the darkness, unwilling to disturb her slumbering lover. She’d say something about the dream to Will in the morning. She closed her eyes trying to stave off the impact of the images.

\-------------------------------------------------

When the warm sunshine spread it’s way across the interior of the room, they awoke simultaneously, still entangled in each other’s embrace. "I had the weirdest dream…”

“As weird as mine?”

The redhead continued absent-mindedly, just wanting to get out the details before they blurred from memory. “I saw you in my dream. You were a child using the Magicks…to harvest corn, no less, as I agree it’s totally an important staple in the dietary food group.” She turned on her side to face the woman who lay beside her. “Then it was you, like the way you are now, all grown…a..and, God, the fire was around you.” She waved her hands trying to recall the nuances of the dream. “You said to me, 'I know you…you’re…..”

“…not supposed to be here…” Tara finished with a blank expression.

“Exactly!” The realization beginning to sink in, “Y..you had the same dream?”

“I..I..I’m not sure w..w..what’s going on, Will…but in my dream…it was you I saw. The exact same thing, o..o..only it was you!”

Willow propped up on one elbow, looking in the direction of the table, confusion spreading across her face.

\----------------------------------------------


	5. Past Lives Before Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The versions of themselves in another past life portal brings up all sorts of questions, and humor, as to how they communicate with their identical counterparts.

Willow propped up on one elbow, looking in the direction of the table, confusion spreading across her face.

"Was I wearing that dress... in your dream?"

\----------------------------------------------------

She awoke to an unfamiliar setting. The sunshine dappled in through the semi-opened curtains and the fresh breeze slightly stirred through the open window. She slowly propped herself on the backs of her elbows and looked around, eyes becoming wide in fear and disbelief. The room was so foreign to anything she’d ever seen. There were too many audacious decorations…garish and tacky. Most of the pieces in this room were completely alien to her senses. She peered downward at herself, her milky hands clutching at the sheets. Oh but what a luxurious sensation this bedding was…soft and silken. She glanced next to her, the sleeping form of her lover unmoved. Relieved to see the blonde’s chest rise and fall with sleep, she leaned over to awaken her.

“Tara…honey….wake up, please!”

\--------------------------------------------------

The streams of sunlight glinted off the redhead’s auburn tresses, highlighting the confusion marked across her features. Waking up into this new world was terrifying and the dream amplified the feelings to a new level. Tara pulled herself closer to her stricken lover. “Yes, you were wearing that dress….a..and I was wearing it, too, in your dream?” Willow nodded her head and turned her wide eyes towards the table again. “Obviously, something is speaking into our psyches..and it was through one of the time dimensions I traveled on, I'm sure of it. It’s time we found out who or what and we start first with that.” She dipped her head back towards the table and the dress that was spread over its surface.

\------------------------------------------------------

“Will? Are you okay?”

Willough shook her head, perplexed and clearly unnerved. “No, I am not. Open your eyes…take a look around.”

Tarelle opened her eyes and focused on the room. She, too, bolted upright. “Where in bloody heck are we, Will…what is going on?” She turned her head to look at her companion, the red locks of hair falling around her face. “Wait, what did you do? Weren’t we…weren’t we…about to be…” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Yes, darling…we were about to be…” Will couldn't finish the sentence either.

The scent of the smoldering wood still fresh in their noses.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Tarelle slid out from under the covers, her loose blonde hair cascading behind her shoulders. She was still dressed in the white gown, the same gown she was ordered to change into after they tore off the beautiful dress given to her a few days earlier. A birthday gift, from her proud father, the dress was seamed perfectly to her proportions in the color of light blue. The same blue which refracted the lightness of her eyes. Those fresh memories of being taken away and stripped bare were horrifying, yes, but she’d rather be here, between earth and hell for all she knew, than burnt and accused for having Gifts some people simply couldn’t understand. With trepidation, she walked to the partially open window, a gust of chilly wind blowing silken hair around her face. 

“It’s so cold!” Shivering, she quickly studied the window and pulled on the top of the frame. It came down with a heavy thud and the curtains ceased their wild movements with the stillness of the room. She turned back to Wilhelmina, who was looking very much like a wild rabbit in a foxhole. 

“Do you have any sense of where we are?” the redhead asked, voice trembling. She pulled the wisps of her hair back behind her ears. The sensations of feeling her once long tresses now gone reminded her of the reasons why it had been sheared in the first place.

“Not yet…I am not…sensing much of anything. Your aura isn’t showing much. I know this is frightening, to be here with no recollection as to how we arrived, and without sensing our surroundings, I feel so lost." Tarelle scanned the interiors of the room, before settling her eyes back to her lover, hot tears brimmimg in her azure pools. "Yet, I also feel safer...wherever this is…and...and we’re here...still together.” She attempted to smile, however weak, to offer some reassurance in spite of gnawing fears.

The tears welled in Willough's eyes. “I’m…I’m frightened, too.” She glanced over at an intrusively odd object, with glowing red numerals glaring back at her. Concentrating her attentions back to any spark of memories, she tried to coagulate a thought.

“ I…I recited an incantation to undo the ropes and create a diversion for us to escape…I had no idea that this…whatever this is, would occur. I didn’t want us to…suffer the way they wanted us to. I felt the swell...the power of the dark magicks…or I think it was. I can’t recall much but…but it was so different than what I’ve experienced.” She brought her gaze back into the eyes of sky blue, a tear falling to her lips. “I'm very happy to be alive, and to be here with you…a..a..and we will search whatever we can to find out where we are.” She took a deep breath, exhaled sharply, and asked her blonde companion to come beside her, back under the warmth of the blanket, and hold her tightly for a few more moments.

\---------------------------------------

As Tara approached the table, an electric arc of invisible energy jolted her senses. She hesitantly reached for the dress, still lying undisturbed, the arms folded over the bodice in a death-like manner. Just barely touching the sleeve produced another volt of energy through her mind, coursing through her insides. Pieces of memories, like a badly done collage, were being played in her head. 

“Willow!” Tara gasped and stumbled forward, her hands finding solace in the wooden stability in front of her.

“Tara!! What’s wrong??” Willow’s eyebrows knitted in concern as she clamored out of the bed over to her lover’s side. When she made contact, she felt the energy and the sudden compounded force of something powerful, penetrating her thoughts like warm tentacles of overlapping images.

“Oh God….” 

Patchwork frames of memories flooded within two minds, one set of scenes, both shared by a common thread.

Two children playing outside. A man whistling some familiar, jovial tune. An elderly woman, stitching light blue fabrics together. Two children, now young women, learning together. Learning about love, life, each other. Forbidden. Fire. Fire everywhere. Red. Blonde. Green. Blue. Fire.

\-----------------------------------

Willough touched the hard object, the foreign blinking animal glaring indignantly back at her. She touched it again. It was cold, inanimate, yet alive in a way she’d not known. Every so often, the numerals would change. First it blinked 8:07. 8:08. 8:09. 8:10.

“Do you suppose it’s…it’s like the bookmarks of the Bible?” she asked. “Is it telling us we need to open up to Luke, Chapter 10?” Will wanted to poke at Tarelle nervously at the suggestion but subdued herself, realizing the moment was not meant for humor. She felt the gentle humming on the top of its surface. It appeared to be accustomed to touch, as it didn’t react to hers. She pushed down on something, which gave way to the pressure of her fingers, and suddenly, a loud blaring noise screeched from its tiny mouth.

“Oh God! Will, what did you do?” Tarelle ran over, trying to get it silenced. It wouldn’t stop. They both were frightened by the piercing sounds and Will, in desperation to temper the angry creature, picked the thing up and threw it to the other side of the room. It quieted instantly.

“Uh…that worked.” Tarelle glanced nervously at what formerly was flashing light and hideous noise to ensure its motionless state of being. “Is that a tail on that thing?” remarking on the long, black cord coming from it’s back.

“I don’t know…but did I just kill it?”

“I...I think you did, Will…”

“It doesn’t seem to take me long to figure out how to do that much.” She looked away from Tarelle, feeling raw and forlorn.

\------------------------------------------

“That was intense. What do you think it means? Did you…see and feel the same things?”

“Yeah…and it was very intense. I...I think our dreams sparked from some energy source…a..a..and it probably came from the energy field around this dress. Can you feel it? Can you see the aura around it?” Tara stepped back, away from the table, the tingling sensations were severe, like hitting the nerve in the funny bone. It was too much to tolerate for any given amount of time.

“From the time we found each other here, where ever the heck ‘here’ is, until this moment, we’ve been sharing the same images and feelings. Energy residue is left in all objects, both liquid and solid in form, leaving patterns and trails behind. Within these patterns, information can be decrypted. There’s a purpose and…and we gotta find it.” Willow faced Tara, with growing confidence in her eyes. “I think I know where to begin.” 

She went over to the mason jars which Tara placed neatly back unto the shelving. Reaching behind the one with the dead field mouse, she pulled out the jar with red hair. 

“How…how did you know?” Tara questioned, thinking she had hidden it out of Willow’s visual range.

“I saw you. I felt you…when you found it. A..a..and your expression when I felt your reaction.” Willow sighed. “Baby, in my dream, there is something else I didn’t tell you. I saw…what I think was myself. My hair had been cut and I think…I am wondering…maybe…could this be mine? It feels things are adding up and the why of being here isn’t purely coincidental, at least, not anymore.”

She walked towards the table, touching the torn fragments of the white shirt she wore when Tara’s blood was spilled and sprayed upon her chest. She closed her eyes and swallowed hard.

“It’s time for a spell and I’m going to need every ounce of your help are…are you ready?”


	6. When in Doubt, Leave

Staring at the brightness of this new cottage they were in, marveling at this newfound mirror they could clearly see themselves in, and rather enjoying the lush fabrics strewn upon the bed, they both noticed what appeared to be blood spatters on the floor.

Seeing blood was nothing knew to them in their time. The odd shaped box on the fuzzy floor was more of a mystery.

“Whatever is that thing?” exclaimed Tarelle, still unnerved at the dead black box lying silently on the floor. She kicked her toe at it to see if it would give any sign of life. There still appeared to be none. “We’ve been so caught up from being channeled away from…um…home, we’ve neglected to find out where it is we’ve…I dunno… landed.” Turning to face Will, sensing the vibrations of self-disappointment emanating from her tiny body, she added, “Honey, nothing is wrong with you. Whatever you did to ‘it’ is of no concern to us now. Please don’t be so hard on yourself. Afterall, we’re here which is better than being of the hickory smoked variety…I think.” She glanced nervously around at the long-tailed creature.

The sun filtered in through the parted curtains to render light to all the curious artifacts, especially on one iron-wrought stand, amongst some other tables and shelving. Smiling up at Tare, Will noticed something familiar. “Well, I recognize a candle when I see one. There are several…and, ooh, look at this one!” Will peered at a vase like structure, with a peculiar tent over the top of it. Inside the tent, was another unrecognizable piece of glass-ware. “This thing…it has a funny shaped ornament inside…and…oh my!” The moment she touched it, the object lighted, creating an aura of energy around the tent straight down to the vase. “I…I have more power than I imagined, Tare. Look at this!” She touched it again and its brightness increased. Fascinated, she touched it again and the light disappeared. “What…why…what happened here? I was doing so well…” A frown threatened to darken her face.

Tarelle came back over to Willough and put her arms around her lover. “Perhaps we shouldn’t touch anything until we’ve familiarized ourselves with whatever forces we’re dealing with. I’m quite uncomfortable with that thing over there, “ she said, nodding in the direction of the lifeless clock, “and whatever you’re doing with this thing, I think…well, I just think we should wait before we start touching things.” On the contrary, she reached out, in spite of herself, towards the vase, brushing her fingers across the surface attempting to sense its energy. Again, it began to glow. 

Will turned to her, a smile relighting her features. “See, you can do it! We must have harnessed some very strong Magicks during the teleportation…everything we touch comes to life…or..or..it shrieks and I kill it.” 

Tare shot Will a look, trying to convey a sense of concern in her eyes. However, she did find it just as fascinating, if not overwhelming, that she, too, could produce those effects on seemingly lifeless objects. She never had that kind of power at home. On the wall, behind Will, she saw an entire shelf full of books. They were unusually bound and not in the ways of old leather binding the way they always known. The books contents were of fine lettering of some sort, and difficult to decipher. The pages were so thin - not robust like their parchment books.

“If we can understand anything of them, they might help us…and hopefully, in a language we can understand, because not much else here makes sense.” Tarelle took Will’s hand and together they searched the wall for something familiar. Will reached for one of the hard-backed books on the bottom row. To her relief, the title read, “Magics and Energies, A Guide to Understanding.” Tarelle’s eyes caught an interesting title, as well. “Journey’s to the NetherRealms – Sexual Pleasures for Astral Witches”. That one would have to wait…but maybe she could look at just a few pages.

\---------------------------------------------

“Bind thy self in knowledge true

Of to me, I call to you

Open the portals, light the way

Show us where truth may lay”

A chasm of light shimmered to the left of them, forming a swirling mass. The energy whipped at their hair and scattered papers within the room. The portal was closing as quickly as it started and Willow knew they were still missing something…it wasn’t enough, the power between them, and she realized why. She was still drained from the teleportation spell. The one which brought them here in the first place. She looked at Tara, who was slumped over on the floor, her eyes halfway closed and breathing heavily.

\--------------------------------------------

The book flew from Tarelle’s hands as noises unfamiliar startled them both. A honking sound, much like wild geese, could be heard outside the window and the wailing pitch like that of a screeching woman followed suit. Willough flew to the window again. She saw a creature made of shiny metal lying on an embedded path and stuck into it was another one, sideways. She gulped, in-taking air quickly through her lungs. “I don’t like the looks of this place at all. Come over here and see these strange iron beasts…and, and there are people walking around them unafraid!!”

Tare heeded Will’s demands and came over to the window, standing close by her side, gripping her hands around the redhead’s waist. They both saw a woman get out of one of the metal contraptions, bent over in obvious pain, her blonde hair tied up in a pony tail. Vast amounts of blood oozed from her arm and chest. “We need to see if we can help, Will!”

“What? Are you serious? By what means of help can we possibly provide?”

It was too late. Tarelle was headed out the bedroom door in search of an exit. “Tare! Wait! You don’t know what…”

Willough watched the blonde run from the room and away from her. 

"…is out there...” she continued to whisper, under distressed breath. She was shocked that Tare took such bold actions. She shouldn’t be so surprised. It was similar actions that got them in trouble in the first place. Her need to help people was simply instinctual.

\----------------------------------------------------------

The woman sat on the edge of a manicured lawn. She glanced up at the figure running towards her, clad only in a nightgown. “Tara...Tara is that...you?” The blonde squinted, the light shining directly in her eyes and her head swam in nauseating circles from shock.

Tarelle rushed to her side, ripping off part of her white gown to soak up the blood from the gash in the young woman’s arm. There was a familiar look to her.

“I’m..I’m here to offer help. What can I do to assist you?”

The woman fell into those gentle blue eyes. “Tara? I’m so glad you’re here…” Those were the last words she said as she fell into unconsciousness, the loss of blood taking its toll.

To be continued....


	7. Who Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The alternative versions of Willow and Tara, in another timeline and dimension, end up being where in the wrong place at the right time for one Buffy Summers.

Buffy was bleeding profusely and, in spite, of her slayer strength and abilities, the blood loss was taking its toll.

Tarelle moved her hand over the wounds, just a few inches above where Buffy lay, and used some healing spells to slow the bleeding down.

“Tara? Why are you dressed like that?” Buffy was in and out of consciousness and growing weaker and more delirious with each passing minute.

Tarelle, unknowing whom this woman was, or what strange dimension alternative reality she was in, and afraid of how loud everything was around her, did her best to console the injured woman, whom was also in remarkably strange attire.

\------------------

A loud, wailing sound was coming at them. A strange, large box with plump wheels speeding toward them, wailing in that horrific screech. Tarelle didn’t like this place. At all.

Willough was behind her though, and lent a supportive hand even though the lights, the sounds, the noise of this dimension were overwhelming and nauseating.

Buffy opened her eyes to the sound of the ambulance. ’Thank god’ she thought silently. “Willow Please come with me...both of you come with me."

A man had jumped out from an enchanted door inside the box thing and brought with him a few square bags, of some sort, with various contraptions meant to assist the injured, Willough had assumed. He opened them and brought out something he put up to his ears, some square patches which he applied over the young woman’s wounds, and another man had brought out a board of some type. Both men gently lifted the woman upon the board and tied her in a bondage manner, to which Tare was non too pleased. “What sorcery is this and why do you bondage her when she’s in need of medicinal care?"

The man in the white clothing looked up at her and bluntly asked, “Which of you wants the back and who sits in the front?"

Willough and Tarelle looked quickly at each other, unsure what any of this meant.

“Guys, look, I’m bleeding here. Just get in the damn thing and let’s get on with it.” Buffy may have been initially weakened, but Slayer strength was a remarkable power to have when injured, as she was already beginning to perk up. “What the hell with the outfits, guys? Renaissance Fair Day?"


End file.
